


a little nest

by lazulisong



Series: yuri!!! on ice [16]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Victor Nikiforov, Alpha Yuri Plisetsky, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Gen, M/M, Omega Katsuki Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 11:10:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10695807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazulisong/pseuds/lazulisong
Summary: On second thought, Yuri doesn't know why he expected Victor to be able to function without Katsuki, like, at all, ever.





	a little nest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RegicidalDwarf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RegicidalDwarf/gifts).



> friends allegedly help friends make good life choices, but I'm beginning to wonder

Yuri gives Idiot von Fuckface two days to get his shit together after leaving Katsudon and Makkachin behind in Japan to prepare for Nationals. He's not going over to check on him. Dumbfuck is allegedly an adult and if he wants to ignore all his fucking texts that's nothing new. Yuri is just barging over because he's sure that Mama Katsudon sent along a bunch of treats, and he wants his full share before Victor eats them all. 

He doesn't bother knocking, or even texting him, because fuck knows Victor never checks his messages except to see if he has something from Katsudon anyway. He unlocks the door with the key he liberated from Yakov and says, "Hey, old fart, where's the stuff from -- what the actual fuck."

Victor's entire apartment looks like a hurricane went through it. The furniture is all pushed into the center of the room, and there's piles and piles of God alone knows what everywhere. All the pictures are leaning against the wall instead of being hung properly. There's swatches of paint all over the wall, as if Victor had put down his suitcases and walked straight out to a paint store.

Like, you _heard_ about alphas going crazy before their wedding, but this was fucking terrifying. 

Victor stands in the middle of the chaos, staring at nothing in particular. 

"Victor, what the hell," says Yuri. Everything smells like alpha, but not like rut. It makes Yuri's nose crinkle, but it doesn't make him edgy like rut-smell would. 

"It's all wrong," says Victor, very calmly. "Everything is wrong. I can't let him in here with it like this."

"What the fuck," says Yuri. 

"I have to make it better," says Victor.

Yuri almost turns tail and runs, but his grandpa didn't raise a coward.

* * *

The last time Victor redid his apartment, a magazine had run a feature on it. They went crazy over the shiny new counters and the sleek backslashes of the kitchen, the little loft sitting area where you could curl up with a book (at the time, Yuri had questioned if Victor had ever read a book in his life), the free standing clawfooted tub big enough for one person to soak in water up to their chin, or two people to get cozy in. They had wasted breathless words on the office space and giggled coyly about the spare rooms with plenty of light. Perfect, they suggested, for a family.

Victor had closed one eyelid, not quite a wink, and said you never knew what would happen in the future. 

That wasn't even the worst of it.

When they got to Victor's bedroom, the tone switched abruptly from coy to borderline pornographic, the softly lit kind of porno that was filmed through gauzy curtains in overstaged bowers. The copy lingered over Victor's beautiful four poster bed hung with netting, spoke longingly of the framed art and shelves of sparkling glass, and nearly dissolved into incoherence over the display of medals.

("Did you let an omega into your room?" said Yakov, looking extremely tired.

"Nooooo," said Victor, drawing it out like he wasn't sure himself. "They smelled like an alpha."

"God help me," said Yakov, involuntarily.)

And then, after they had spent two thousand words jizzing all over Victor's "perfect bower", Victor (probably with one eye toward placating the Russian Federation so he could do something terrible again) had shown them It.

Victor's apartment had actually come with It, since he lived in a restored building and his apartment was actually, technically, pre-Soviet, when people still thought about that sort of thing. Yuri's grandpa's apartment had one too, but much smaller and plainer. They never used it except as a bedroom for Yuri before he moved to St Petersburg. 

"THE LOVELIEST FEATURE OF NIKIFOROV'S BOWER-BEDROOM," screamed the article, "IS THE DEN SPACE BUILT INTO THE WALL. HE ALLOWED ME, WITH MY OWN UNWORTHY EYES, TO CATCH A GLIMPSE OF THIS BEAUTIFULLY RESTORED AND DECORATED OMEGA'S DEN, WITH A NESTING BOX MADE OF WHITE PINE. EMPTY NOW, OF COURSE. NIKIFOROV SHOWED ME WHERE HE KEEPS THE PILLOWS, BLANKETS, AND PADS REQUIRED TO MAKE IT A BEAUTIFUL SAFE HAVEN FOR A LUCKY OMEGA."

("Are you absolutely _sure_ this reporter was an alpha?" said Yakov, fishing in his desk for his bottle of vodka. He pulled it out and then seemed to reconsider, pulling out a bottle of antacids as well. Yuri remained as still as a little mouse on the couch, peering over his math textbook.

"Mmm, pretty sure," said Victor. He touched his finger to his lips thoughtfully. "Pretty pretty sure."

"God spare me from buck alphas," muttered Yakov, opening the vodka.)

The den was very nice: you entered it through an opening in the wall, just high enough off the ground and large enough for a medium sized adult to crawl in comfortably, and the nesting box was nearly the size of a full bed. Along the walls were shelves to put supplies, and you could close the entrance with latticed, sliding panels. Somehow or another, it was ventilated well enough to keep comfortable, and there was even a little area beside the nesting box itself where you could sit and wait if the omega didn't want to allow you in the nest proper. The flooring was heated. 

Victor told the reporter that he had heard it had been used for a birthing-den, a long time ago. "Of course, it would be lovely," he said, and trailed off with a well-practiced sigh. 

Honestly, it was a genuine miracle that the reporter hadn't devolved into helpless keyboard smashing after that point. 

The thing was, though, it was all rot: Victor had never intended to get married, let alone have children, and Yuri knows for a fact that the den is mostly just empty space, there to impress reporters and feed the fantasies of Victor's fans. Victor never went into it except to access the safe built under the flooring, where he keeps his medals. 

It's a little sad to think how long Victor's been waiting for someone to come to his bower. Yuri doesn't like to think about it.

* * *

First things first: Victor's got to be back on the ice tomorrow or the rest of Yuri's season is going to go straight into the shitter. It's clear that Victor got home and started staring straight into the void, which isn't exactly surprising. Enraging, but not surprising.

Yuri gets Victor to sit down and rummages gingerly through his suitcases until he finds a katsudon pillow that smells like, well, Katsudon, as if Katsuki had had enough sense to scent something before he sent Victor off to be Yuri's fucking problem. He shoves it at Victor, who wraps it tightly in his arms and buries his nose in it. 

"Great," says Yuri. "You do that. Fuck. Shit. Okay." He goes over to the kitchen -- which is also half-torn apart, like Victor was trying to decide which silverware was Worthy Enough of Katsudon -- and gets water in the electric kettle and then digs around until he finds cocoa. The last thing Victor needs right now is more caffeine. He's an idiot, so he's probably running on three hours of sleep and two crackers. Yuri calls the restaurant that's first on Victor's pile of takeout menus, on Victor's phone, and asks the lady for whatever Victor usually gets, delivered as soon as possible. 

Then he texts Katsuki that he'd better win his fucking Nationals after putting Yuri to this much fucking trouble, and takes a picture of Victor to make his point clear.

 _I'll call him,_ Katsudon texts back. 

_FUCK YOU NO PRACTICE IF YOU'RE AT PRACTICE,_ replies Yuri, and then, _you better feed me when you get here_

 _don't kill him we need to beat him fair and square,_ says Katsuki. 

Ugh. UGH. Yuri hates it when Katsudon has a point.

Somehow he manages to get Victor to lift his face from the pillow enough to drink the damn cocoa, and then shoves him ungently down to lie down until the food arrives.

Victor fights for a second, trying to get up to do God knows, what and then suddenly gives up, like he's a puppet with his strings cut. He goes limp against the couch cushions, clutching the katsudon pillow. 

Yuri sits down next to him and takes a deep breath in. Thank God he's got at least two weeks, maybe three, to kick Victor's ass into something resembling shape. Suppose Katsudon had to come to Russia and deal with this idiot while he was acting like this. Katsudon would probably try to be _nice._

"They all thought I was going to be an omega," said Victor suddenly. His voice is a little muffled, but still pretty clear.

"You sure showed them," said Yuri. 

"They thought my Yuri was going to be a beta," said Victor. "He told me that once. Said he didn't look much like a proper omega." He's quiet for a minute. "He's perfect like he is," he says vehemently. 

Yuri isn't quite sure what the fuck Victor is talking about, but -- "What the fuck does it matter, anyway." Katsudon is one of the most beautiful omegas Yuri has ever seen, even if he's not like, always sexy or whatever. Yuri likes Katsudon's quiet sensuality better. It's nice to see him enjoying things. He's so soft. Not like Yuri himself, or Victor. 

"I guess it doesn't," says Victor. "Wouldn't it be funny if you turned out to be a beta though? To complete the set."

Yuri doesn't know what he's going to present as. Puberty is coming for him any day now, and he doesn't know what he'll wake up one day and be. It nauseates him, just thinking about it. Things will change. He can't control it. It's infuriating, to know that this one thing is supposed to define him, and yet it's just a trick of DNA. It's not fair. 

"I wish you'd be what you want to be," says Victor.

Yuri wonders if Victor really wanted to be an alpha, or an omega. He's pretty tired, and his mind gets caught up in a muddled mess of imagining things. Victor as a beta. Victor as an omega. They both seem really weird, but if he had been an omega or a beta, wouldn't it be just as weird to imagine him as an alpha? Victor is just Victor. Just like Katsudon is just Katsuki. Or like he, himself, is just Yuri. It doesn't matter.

* * *

Yuri slips into Victor's room to get him another blanket. Victor resisted leaving the couch when Yuri tried to get him to go to bed. Probably he won't sleep on his own bed, in his own bower, until Katsudon is with him again. Even Victor's room is a tumbled mess of bright fabrics and boxes. The shutters to the den are open, and when Yuri looks in, he sees that Victor has stuffed in all the bedding that had lain uselessly for so long in a closet into the nest. He's put his Olympic jacket in with it, no doubt thinking, in his haze of loneliness and hormones, that it was important that Katsuki have it for his nest. Maybe he thought it was the best part of Victor, or something stupid like that.

Yuri doesn't touch anything in the den of course, but he looks at the nesting box for a long time. He imagines Katsuki in it, curled around a little creature, keeping it close to himself until he and it were strong enough to come out of the den. Victor bringing him food, crooning wordless praise at him, touching the baby. Maybe Katsuki would let Yuri near it. 

It would be nice, thinks Yuri. It's been so long since this den has been used.

* * *

When he gets back to the living room, Victor is trying to sit up, blinking slowly out at nothing in particular.

He says, "If you go to sleep, tomorrow will be one day closer to when you're out of my fucking hair."

Victor blinks at him, and then lies down again, slowly. He closes his eyes again. "That's good," says Victor, sleepily. "One day closer to my Yuri."

"Yeah," says Yuri.


End file.
